Missed Calls of Nothing
by pleasesayitsnotso
Summary: One Shot: Inspired by the Adele song 'Hello', after leaving Steve behind Natasha feels guilty over her rash actions and the way in which she allowed Steve become attached to her. It seems however that the Captain isn't one for a chat as she tries to contact him for the last time, hoping he knows she's sorry... for everything.


_Hello from the other side_

 _I must've called a thousand times_

 _To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done_

 _But when I call you never seem to be home_

 _Hello from the outside_

 _At least I can say that I've tried_

 _To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart_

 _But it don't matter, it clearly doesn't tear you apart_

 _Anymore_

* * *

After the fourth time of him not answering her calls she wonders if it's not just him being technologically ignorant; wary of an untraced number; or just a coincidence. Because if Steve is anything it is polite and courteous, and if he ever thinks that he may offend someone even in the slightest manner, he is the first to apologise and try and defuse any course of ill feeling. But this is different.

She doesn't leave messages, it's not her thing and she doesn't need to... plus it's risky in her current situation, it could cause more harm than good. In more ways than one.

In the rare moments where her mind was able to shift down a gear or two, when she is allowed to let her conscience wander slightly from its current path she thinks of that day. Of him standing there looking at her with those clear azure eyes, that yearned for her to stay that told her she had gotten too close too soon. She'd given him too much and in turn she had allowed herself to become far too fond of his presence, far too accustomed to the strength and valour he emanated. He had made her a fool, coerced her unknowingly against a lesson she had long ago been taught...

 _Yearnings of the heart are the traps we make for ourselves Natalia, never fall victim to it._

Natasha did not yearn, she did not need or want for anyone but here she was stood at a payphone in the pouring rain, waiting for him to pick up for the fifth time. The dull ringing continued on, its droll symphony managing to eek through the pane of noise created by the down pour she currently resided in. Her fingers clutched around the hard plastic, droplets of rain trickling over the creases in her vibrant white knuckles in a manner that should make her shiver, but she's used to the cold. Her foot absentmindedly tapped on the broken and cavernous concrete in a bid to make the time pass quicker as she waited. The rhythmic thud of the sole of her boot hitting the floor, gave her a landmark for her wayward mind, a beacon to focus on amongst a cacophony of thoughts, plans and strategies.

She claims that her lack of focus recently had purely been due to the circumstances she was now in, with her personal information regarding her rather painted and varied career and life out for all to see, it gave her limited time to think of anything else. Anyone else. The heavy veil of defence that Natasha wore so well seldom allowed for any altercations in her countenance, but if you looked at right time, in the right moment it was there. The soft curve in her lips as she smiled ever so slightly at his ridiculous fumblings in a modern world he was yet to become used to, and the way the vicious sparkle in her eyes mellowed into an intimate glow at his appearance. His effects on her were small and few to others, but to her they were far too much.

Her effect on him however was a much more vivid picture, one of pure clarity that had confirmed all she had deduced. The glint in his eye; that lopsided smile that etched two perfect dimples on the corners of his lips; and the gaze that lingered for too long, all the signs. **He felt something for her.** Something was too much, especially for her, especially when her past was drenched red, the droplets of crimson curdling and clotting as they fell to the floor. The deadly and bitter essence of her actions seeping from a time gone by, a poison that she could not rid herself of. It plagued her always, and there was no permanent cure, no way to lift its lasting effects. She couldn't have _the_ Captain America see the hideous wounds that lay beneath the facade she wore so well, the one she had used so often that she could adapt, change and alter at her will. If he only knew the ugly that lay beneath the lies... that glint would fizzle out; the smiles would no longer come; and the gaze would cease to linger. **He'd see everything, he'd see the truth**.

As the answer phone message kicked in she didn't even wait for it to finish, knowing it pretty much off by heart now she slammed the receiver back into its holder with far more force than was necessary. With an explosive clatter into the metal the flimsy phone cracked, the speaker element hanging precariously from its former body, swaying with the motion of the vicious wind. Her languid trudge masked the rare feelings of disappointment and unease she felt at his clear dismissal of her. In this moment she realised the significance of what she had been taught, if the admiration of an individual can insight the weakness of love it could also procure the failing of heartbreak. Of course that was **not** what she felt with Steve, but she could identify the reaction one would have towards being let down by the one person you thought would be there. **But then she should know better than anyone that people move and change, the memory of them may hold the same but reality alters all of that.**

She continues to slowly make her way along the pavement, without any effort to avoid the puddles that decorate her path lavishly because in all honestly she's not bothered by it. Feeling the rain drops glide along the contours of her face, caressing her skin with a cool touch, she knows that **she won't call anymore. She can't call anymore** , but she hopes that the missed calls show she tried. Attempted to atone for all the bad choices she had made throughout their acquaintance, for the way she had let him closer than she should and for how she had to leave. Had to create distance, space and time away from him to allow the fantasy and feelings he held for her disintegrate into nothing. **Because nothing is better than something, and she's sorry for that.**


End file.
